


We Create Our Own Demons

by MarvelousAndProud



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Anxiety trigger warning, F/M, Post-New York, ironman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelousAndProud/pseuds/MarvelousAndProud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What exactly goes on in the brilliant mind of Tony Stark? Especially right after the battle of New York. After his stint with the wormhole and the struggles that follow him with that mentally. What does he think about as he lies awake at night, unable to sleep?</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Create Our Own Demons

_We create our own demons. Everything we do in our lives. Every minuscule event, every conversation, every time we step outside our home, we create impacts. They might be small, a slight variation the size of a granule of sand. Other times they are colossal, meteor sized crevices in the wake of our actions. No act is insignificant. We create demons and we often aren’t even aware that we are doing such._

 

My name is Tony Stark. I am a tinkerer. I am a tinkerer who can’t sleep and at times it feels as if I can’t even breathe. The icy cold fingers curl around my heart, making it nearly beat out of my chest. Oh. That’s right. I have been told I don’t even possess such an organ. This must all just be in my head then. _All in my head._ That is where they live. My demons. They snarl and claw, fester and growl, scaring away happy thoughts and welcome their kind with open arms.

 

Funny thing about demons, I just can’t seem to kick them out. I guess I really am as self-destructive as they say, other people, not my demons. I can’t speak their language but if I could, I am sure their words would twist and stain my mind even further. I suppose there is relief in not understanding.

 

Most people call me a narcissist. This is true. I wonder how many times I will say “I”. I am sure it will be quite a lot. I am a genius and the world has benefited greatly from my existence. I’d like to say I am a good man. That would be a lie. I have hurt just as many people, if not more, than I have saved. Ok, back to me. That is what this is about right? Me. I am a genius, widely successful. I have a gorgeous woman who loves me. That part still baffles me. Apparently she sees something good in me if she has stuck around this long right? Well. She has stuck around for now. I can feel us slipping apart; some days are so bad it feels as if a few strings are the only thing keeping her tethered to me and not letting her just walk out that door.

 

Such fragile strands they are too. Stretching slightly, like spider webs, stretching until they snap and blow away in the breeze. I have caused many of those strands to already sever and I can only hope to get my life in order before I lose her, before she figures out how much better she would be without me.

I am a mess. A smoking hot mess. I hold her back. I really do. This is because I am selfish. I am an extremely selfish man. I realize that and I have made steps to change it. To be a better man. Not just for her. Not just for me. For everyone. It is no longer just a world of “What makes Tony happy?” I am accountable to something else now. Something greater. Something more everlasting than myself. A legacy.

 

Not just my own legacy, that is pretty well established by this point, the team. The people who count on me to have their backs. To stand tall and face it all when the going gets tough. It is even more than just them though, it really is everyone. Narcissist remember? I am in a position to help so many people. The praise is a nice addition. Hey. At least I am honest right?

 

Alright. Where are we at now? I am a _hot_ mess. I am brilliant and insanely successful. Have you seen my car collection? Sorry. Distracted. Shiny things. Successful and loved. Loved by an extraordinary woman and by thousands around the world. I could just about get anything I could ever want, within reason of course. Not that I have ever let that stop me before. So, given that I am a man who arguably has everything. Why can’t I sleep?

 

Why am I staring up at my ceiling right now, it isn’t a particularly interesting ceiling, mind you. Why does she sleep so soundly next to me while my tired eyes gaze blankly upwards? Wait. Maybe sleep will come tonight, as it does on occasion. Not good. I rather avoid the dreams. Dreams, didn’t that used to have a positive connotation? A dream for happiness, for the future, for whatever the hell you want I suppose. “Nightmares” is a far more suitable word in my most expert of opinion. This is all because of New York.

 

Crap. Not that word. Can’t-Can’t breathe. Pepper. No. She is sleeping. She doesn’t need to deal with this. She puts up enough with me as it is. Just breathe. It will pass as it always does. Ah-but my chest, aching. Can’t. Air. Calm down. Stay quiet. Sleep. Let her sleep. I won’t be selfish now. Just this once.

 

Anxiety is like drowning. You thrash and kick, desperately trying to reach the surface as it feels as if your lungs are on fire. To make matters worse is when there is someone pulling for you, someone who has seen your pain and desperately wants to help. Have you ever seen someone try to save a drowning man? The fear and panic overtake them, they grasp and cling to anything, or anyone they can get their flailing hands on. What happens when they grab hold of the very person who is trying to save them? They are taken down too. Pulled into the pitch-black, suffocating experience. Taken down and not allowed to escape. I can’t do that to Pepper. She doesn’t deserve that. So, what do you do? Do you keep fighting? Keep holding your breath till you break through the surface for a fresh breath of sanity? Or, do you accept it? Let your self sink and find peace in the inky black. Let the panic consume every part of your being.

 

No. It isn’t all about me anymore. People rely on me. They need me to get it together. Perhaps I should ask for help? No. I am Tony Stark and asking for help is not hard wired into my brain. The pillow I pulled over my face muffled any sounds of distress that might have woken Pepper. Breathe. Breathe. Slowly my breathing got under control. These don’t usually last too long. It’s over, this one at least. At least Pepper is still sleeping. At least I have one win for tonight.

 

Suck it up. Stop complaining. There are plenty of people who have it worse than I. Move on. It’s time to get back to work.

 

_Just don't let the demons win._


End file.
